Things that have not happened to me:
1. I have not been consumed by a passion for Sudoku so great I can no longer blog.
2. I have not injured my typing arms in any way.
3. I am not so consumed with trauma that I cannot get out of a rocking foetal ball on the floor.
4. I have not been placed under an injunction not to write on my weblog.
5. I have not abused drugs or alcohol to such a degree I am incoherent and cannot form sentences (this might prove to be a mistake on my part).
6. I have not had a change of heart and stopped blogging altogether.
7. Oscar has not chewed my face off.
8. La belle-mère has not stuffed me in the cocotte minute and made me into soup for taking a candid shot of her and beau-père doing synchronised sudoku in their slippers (try saying that after a couple of lychee martinis).
I have been in Geneva thrashing out a Waffle version of the Versailles Treaty with the CFO. We have agreed on the essential points as follows:
- We are ace at breaking up. I, in particular, win the Oscar for best break up. Amusingly, my prize is Oscar. Oh, how we laughed!
- Our children are fucking brilliant.
- I will still go shopping for clothes with him when he needs more clothes.
- The end.
Good, no? In between thrashing out these crucial points, we bought him a very late birthday present, had too much to drink and squabbled and fell over and so on.
I will try and post tomorrow but I am in Scotch Land celebrating M, my brain twin's birthday.
(Incidentally, can some grammar drone explain to me the correct way of doing that last sentence? Do I have to say "celebrating the birthday of my brain twin M" to avoid getting tangled in missing apostrophes? )
We will be celebrating in traditional Scotch Land fashion by leering at students, saying "cock" a lot and drinking stuff with lychees in. Oh, and plotting our continued world domination through the medium of mean crafts. I promise to report back incoherently afterwards, even if I fail to do so while I am there.